Here’s the part that will twist your guts: if you’ve ever been called too much, they made fun of it, right? Your sensitivity, like it was some kind of embarrassing quirk—like loving deeply, feeling things others miss, was something broken. They rolled their eyes, called you dramatic, overly emotional, said you think too much, care too much, feel too much. But secretly, they were soaking it in because your sensitivity wasn’t a flaw; it was the superpower that kept their curls from eating them alive.
You picked up on every shift in their mood, every twitch in their tone. You asked if they were okay before they even knew something was wrong. You adjusted your words, your body, your energy just to keep things soft when their world felt sharp, and they needed that. You sat with their silence, held space for their shame, made room for emotions they never dared name. You weren’t reacting; you were responding—from love, from empathy, from a depth they’ve never known and will never find again.
But because they couldn’t control it, they had to shame it. They mocked the very thing that kept them grounded. Now, now that you’re gone, the world feels flat. The new people in their life can’t read the room, can’t feel the undertones, can’t give what you gave without even trying. They laugh, but it’s hollow. They talk, but nobody listens past the words. You were too much? No, you were everything.
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Number Four: Your Depth Made Their Games Look Pathetic
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